


Don’t let this be the end ...

by teaandbiscuitsforme



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crystal Cave, F/M, and everyone is depressed, while Morgana is in a coma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27543991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandbiscuitsforme/pseuds/teaandbiscuitsforme
Summary: They say life can change in a matter of seconds, especially with a head injury. Yet what would change and the repercussions was the difficult part and learning to live again. This would never get better. Set during the crystal cave.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Morgana (Merlin), Morgana & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Morgana & Morgause (Merlin)
Kudos: 13





	Don’t let this be the end ...

Morgana had never had thought herself to be in this position two years ago. Even three years ago, when he first came to this city she hadn’t _known_ how this would all turn out, and while she didn’t want it to be this way this was just how it had turned out. Maybe if she could’ve seen the future and how it’d all turn out she could have gone down a different path. Yet at the same time, it was just _impossible_ to do so. She wasn’t sure how she could deal with it, living in exile, being killed for who she was. She knew that Uther’s hatred against magic was wrong yet there was hope for Arthur. Not that it lasted—nothing ever did. 

It was around the twentieth anniversary of the capture of ‘the great’ dragon that this had all begun. Some simple serving boy—a tall dark stranger—arrived in Camelot. Not that Morgana had paid much attention to him, although she did have to listen to Arthur whining about some idiot who seemed to be stalking him. _Arthur could be so full of himself sometimes._ Only for the said ‘stalker’ to end up saving Arthur’s life and being _rewarded_ as Arthur’s servant. Granted, they did have their moments yet things always seemed to resolve themselves. 

Then along came the sickness which killed many people, Gwen’s father among the infected, before her maidservant and best friend was accused of sorcery. Again, Uther only fuelled what Morgana knew, so when she had found out about Merlin’s efforts to save Gwen she couldn’t help but feeling rather jealous. She knew that she’d never get that, instead being pawned off to some other king or Arthur. The horror. Yet that too had somehow worked out, while she did know Merlin’s secret and he was happy for her to talk about it. 

Merlin’s poisoning soon followed. She knew she didn’t want him to die. He was too good an asset to loose, as she managed to persuade Arthur to retrieve the flower and save Merlin. The flowers came soon after. It wasn’t unusual for Morgana to get flowers—as the King’s award this tended to be a common gift from others. No name card, maybe this time it’d _finally_ be him. 

The day that he had barged into her chambers with a young boy was the day that all had changed. Morgana had been giggling with Gwen as they chatted and gossiped about the knight’s when he barged in with an injured young child. While normally, Morgana wouldn’t help out having only known someone for a few weeks, she couldn’t help but feel different this time around. Thus she agreed to help out. Together, they worked together in hopes of everything being OK for the child. 

She had her suspicions that Merlin was different. Maybe not quite opposed to magic after all given that he _had_ helped the druid boy. And she wasn’t disappointed at all in the end, while they had ended up getting caught with Arthur’s help the child was returned to his people. Morgana’s knew that she would have to repay the favour, and once Merlin’s mother had come to beg for help she knew what she had to do. Even if Arthur or not one else wanted to, Morgana wanted to help him back. 

Morgana’s had _known_ she was different for a while. Known that there was something about Merlin, something special. When the fire began in her room everything was out of control. She wasn’t sure how to do this anymore. How to keep on going, knowing deep down what was going on—no amount of denying would be about to stop the truth. He told her that she could trust him, and she knew that she could. Granted, they hadn’t known each other long yet it felt _right_. While Gaius had simply drugged her up and given her medicine—medicine that didn’t work, when all she needed was hope—something that couldn’t be prescribed. It wasn’t like she needed a physician, not when she had someone by her side. Merlin was. When no one else was there no matter how comforting Gwen or Arthur tried to be, or Uther’s anger and insistence on killing whoever had _dared_ to harm his beloved ward. Merlin had guided her and helped her to the best of his abilities—and for that, Morgana was grateful. It was then that she had known, she loved him. It was him. Always, only him. He was there with the witch finder, he was always _there_. 

Morgana could only watch from the distance. As the King’s ward, she knew that _nothing_ could ever happen. Not if she wanted him to live—so she waited. Yet when the child turned up once more, she just couldn’t help but realise how stuck she was. Stuck in that dreadful place, essentially treading on eggshells while she had to look uther in the eye knowing that if he knew the truth about her that he would _kill her without a second thought._

Sometimes in life, sacrifices _had_ to be made. Being faced with freedom, to be able to be who she was without having to live in fear as she met her sister and Alvarr changed things. She knew what freedom was like and how _trapped_ she was during that time. She began to withdraw from Merlin, and he did too. Until that fateful day. She had told Morgause how she wanted Uther dead more than anything, next thing she knew she had had a great sleep while everyone was exhausted and soon fell fast asleep. Everyone, except her. By the time Merlin had returned with Arthur, Arthur wasn’t himself. He seemed to be against her and she couldn’t help but feeling as she was being attacked, that _somehow_ he would find out the truth. Despite their recent distance, Merlin was _there_. 

It was going well. Morgana was ready to help protect Uther in the end, while Merlin was simply trying to be a good friend by offering her water instead of drinking it himself. Even while she was thirsty she was hardly about to admit it. Only when she felt her throat closing up as she struggled to catch her breath had she realised what happened. She saw it his eyes. He’d _tried_ to kill her. 

For the next year she had spent it with Morgause. Realising how terrible and toxic the situation she was in was like. What it was like to be surrounded by people that loved her back for who she was, not caring about how she was born where she _didn’t_ have to be ashamed of herself. The return to Camelot was agony, yet at least she would be able to have her payback on Uther. Pretending to be Uther’s loving ward until she could overthrow him and pretending to have forgiven Merlin. Yet she still was able to hold that over his head, and while she didn’t want to use it unless _absolutely necessary_ she still had her excuse nonetheless. She couldn’t do what she did to Merlin, even though he had betrayed her she just _couldn’t_. 

The meddling prick would be there when she had used her underhand tactics. He would be there, waffling on about how she of all people could change Uther’s mind. She only wished it were that simple, just as simple as Uther understanding and revoking those laws. Yet Merlin _wouldn’t_ understand. _No one_ would unless they had been there themselves. And none of them had. Morgana was truly and utterly alone in all this, soldiering on through the hard times. Gaius being possessed by a goblin and saying something about Merlin having magic. Not that it’s be possible—he couldn’t, could he? 

No, of course not. _Why would he_? He had simply used her and betrayed her like everyone else. Her nineteenth had _finally_ rolled around soon afterwards. Oh and how she loved Arthur’s gift to her; the _perfect_ killing weapon, the _perfect_ time for her plan to work. Yet that night something happened, something went wrong along the way as everything soon began to change. All she knew was, that the new version of herself was very different to the old version. On the outside? Everything seemed fine. On the inside? It had just begun. She wanted revenge, and revenge she would get. No _matter_ the cost.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a one shot idea I have had for a while; knowing that a head injury can leave devastating changes and this was the result. I had wanted to publish this for a while and finally had the inspiration to write this last night. Let me know how you found it!


End file.
